


Five Times Daisy Asked Coulson To Say Her Name

by zauberer_sirin



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Developing Relationship, F/M, Face-Sitting, Fluff, Future Fic, Romance, Unresolved Sexual Tension, more name change fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-17
Updated: 2015-11-17
Packaged: 2018-05-02 03:46:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5232731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zauberer_sirin/pseuds/zauberer_sirin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Coulson needs to learn how to get it right.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Times Daisy Asked Coulson To Say Her Name

**i.**

After England, after Simmons is safe and home, he realizes he owes her an apology.

"I need to get it right," he says, stopping her in the hallway at night.

"You should try practicing," she tells him.

He shoves his hands in his pockets.

"So?" she urges.

"Now?"

Skye– _fuck_ , Daisy. Daisy raises her eyebrows.

"Daisy," he says, a little too flat, he realizes a little too late.

Daisy looks at him like that wasn't the answer she was looking for at all.

Later that night he tries to say it alone, in his room, looking at the bathroom mirror. It feels weird to do that, almost invasive (it's her name, perhaps he should say it when he's alone) but he keeps wondering why he is having such a hard time with this. He should be able to just abide by Daisy's wishes and maybe his inability to do so is causing her more stress. Maybe it's because she never really said why the change – he thinks he knows, but they _haven't talked_ , and as much as professionally they have become an effective team in these past six months, with Daisy turning into almost the de-facto co-Director of SHIELD, emotionally Coulson feels she's pushing him away. He's doing the same, he admits – how can he talk about it with her, of all people? Still. He wants to do this for her at least.

He looks at the mirror.

"Daisy. Daisy. _Daisy_."

 

 

**ii.**

They barely have room to move and no other choice but waiting until the extraction team comes for them. Surrounding by the enemy if Daisy uses her powers they'd be immediately discovered, with no knowledge or how many are out there. She offers, though. To blast them out of here. She knows she can take any number of them. Coulson doesn't like unknown variables, though. She knows this. Trust your team, he insists.

It's awkward, having to stand so close together. Specially after months of things not being so great between them. Even before the whole ATCU fiasco they had been pushing each other away (maybe the whole ATCU fiasco happened because they had been pushing each other away, Daisy had been too scared to explore that idea) and the fiasco might be over but Coulson's guilt over it wasn't. And things hadn't been back to normal between them. Daisy wonders what normal even means in this case. Before the Inhuman hunt? Before he lost his hand? Before she got powers? Maybe there isn't such a thing with them, normal. Maybe, but she still misses him.

This is not the best place to be thinking about this stuff, she realizes.

Coulson finally notices her expression but he mistakes it for worry about their current mission.

"It'll be okay, Daisy. We'll be fine," he says, touching her arm slightly for encouragement.

The way he says her name – it has stopped sounding like a chore a long time ago. Before there was always the hesitation, having to actively remind himself. She misses the way he said _Skye_ sometimes. But the way he says _Daisy_ now, even with the awkwardness between them, it complicates things the same way it always did.

Now they are trapped in a small space, their shoulders and hips touching without meaning to every time they take a breath, and Coulson is avoiding her gaze and Daisy is so tired of always losing.

"We never really talked about me changing my name," she says, stilling her voice so Coulson would listen. "You just accepted my request, never really asked."

Coulson looks at her, confused that she's bringing this up now.

"I didn't want to..." He stops. What? Pry? Like they are acquaintances and nothing else? Maybe he hoped she would tell her on her own and Daisy feels a bit guilty about that and also she knows Coulson would probably think it was presumptuous of him, to think she has to come to him with her problems. Nothing is straightforward between them. They are such a mess. "I _should_ have asked. I'm sorry."

It's the first bullseye he gets in months and it gives Daisy such ridiculous hope. She feels like she is again with that guy, the one she felt she could tell all about the homeless people trying to break into her van, about wondering who her parents were when she was a kid, the one she could not-joke about wanting to eat marshmallows with. It makes her want to talk more. It makes her want to win for once.

"I chose _Skye_ when I was in a bad place, real bad," she says and she can see Coulson pulling that face, the one he always makes when she is talking about her past and that guy is still there and she breathes quietly, her breast touching his arm. "I needed that name, to survive. But I don't want to just survive anymore. I want to _live_."

He nods. Does he really understand? She wonders.

"So can you...? Say it again?"

Coulson stares at her, contemplating her request. His mouth opens slightly a while before he even speaks.

" _Daisy_."

And he doesn't just say her name. He says it in a way that changes everything between them.

 

 

**iii.**

"Come on, Phil, don't make me wait," she tells him. " _Say it_."

Coulson smiles up at her.

"Agent Johnson," he teases her.

She rolls her eyes. "You've been calling me that _all day_."

He's under her. She's finally ready to be out of her mission clothes, Coulson pulling at the zipper of her suit very slowly while she straddles his lap.

He knows she likes the ritual – maybe because it makes boundaries clear. He's her boss, she's his agent. She's still _Daisy_ out there, never stops, but he knows it's important for her to come home and draw a line – this is where she's just Daisy, where she's just his lover. Because this is so new and fragile Daisy needs to draw lines for herself. Come morning they will have to do the ritual in reverse (helping each other dress, examining each other's game faces, becoming partners in a different sense) but at night she has this other freedom.

He rolls his hips, pressing his erection against her. She moans a bit too loudly considering they are both dressed, and Coulson slips the uniform off her shoulders to remedy that part. He kisses between her breast, tasting the sweat of her mission, licking the adrenaline off the hollow of her neck. Daisy trembles against it, is still shaking when Coulson takes off her belt.

"Please," she says. Wanting to be alone with him. He gets it. It's the beginning and it's all a mess. She needs to know.

"Daisy," he says, hooking his fingers behind her neck and sliding his tongue between her lips. She sighs with relief against his mouth.

 

 

**iv.**

"Say my name," she says, feeling her own voice drip with need and arousal.

"Now?" he asks.

She nods, pulling at his hair until she knows it almost hurts.

He has his head between her thighs, his hands grabbing at the curve of her ass to guide her through it, pulling her up when she's straddling him too heavy and he needs to breathe. Daisy has one hand twisted into his hair, the other curled around the headboard, giving her balance as she fucks herself on Coulson's mouth. God she loves this. She loves this so much she's afraid of doing it too often, the sort of loss of control she is still scared of.

Coulson nods and pushes his tongue inside her again, making her wait for it. She moans loudly. As loudly as she wants. They are not in the Playground, she doesn't have to worry about other people. They have been in this cabin enough times that it's beginning to feel a bit like a home away from home. Despite the bad memories, despite the uncomfortable couch, despite the fact that everything takes ages to bake in that weak oven (Coulson's frustrated words), despite the fact that they only come here when they really _need_ a break and that normally implies some kind of disaster, or at least a close call. Maybe that's why Daisy likes it, because she's always raw in here. Coulson likes it because he doesn't have to worry about modesty or appear restrained like in the base. And because he likes playing house.

He snakes one hand along her spine and with his prosthetic he grabs her hip and lifts her on her knees. He's just catching his breath, brushing his lips against the inside of her thigh. Daisy scrapes her fingertips across his scalp to urge him on and Coulson chuckles, he chuckles and oh god, she loves this. She'd do it for hours if she thought he'd be comfortable (she wouldn't want to explain this if they got back to the base and the Director had injured his tongue and jaw). He chuckles again – now it's her saying his name, whispering it, whimpering his one syllabe – and uses his hand to lower her slowly into position.

He flicks his tongue against her clit, flattening it before forming the sounds.

" _Dai_ –" laving his tongue and pausing for both their shudders, " _isy_."

The next thing she nows is she's breathing ragged and she's in Coulson's arm, scooped into his lap with his arms around her legs, pulling her close, kissing her neck, still muttering her name, as his gloved hand taps morse-code comfort on her sensitive skin.

 

 

**v.**

He is distracted, fidgeting with one of the tiny Lola models on his desk, and almost misses it when she enters the room and closes the door behind her.

"So when do we get one of those guys who remove names from doors?" she asks.

"Very funny. There's no name on the door."

"Pity, I always liked when they do that in the movies."

She crosses the room swiftly and presses herself against his suit in a new way. Or maybe he just feels like it's new. He touches his mouth to hers to test if that feels new too. Daisy smiles, a bit surprised. Not exactly PDA but they usually like to separate things (unless they can, and his desk has seen more slip-ups than he would even admit to a third party).

"Long day?"

"No, just... I can't wait to take you to bed," he admits, wrapping his hands around her waist.

Perhaps that's what he needs. To be alone with her in their quarters.

He's still overwhelmed by the whole thing. The whole _two_ things. Which had to happen at the same time because this is Daisy and him, of course both worlds will always be entwined, much as they try to keep them apart.

But it's okay because Daisy is looking really softly at him now, like she does whenever his arm hurts even after years, or whenever he's said something disgustingly corny and pathetic (Daisy's words, of course) without meaning to. It's a mixture of both.

"Come on. Say it, Phil. You know you want to."

He sighs.

He really really wants to.

He draws Daisy closer until their foreheads are touching.

" _Director_ Daisy Johnson-Coulson."

She gives him a smug smile. She doesn't realize how much paperwork it actually implies, being Director of SHIELD. She shoves their mouths together for a moment, fiercely, grabbing the front of his shirt, and Coulson can tell she's overwhelmed too but in her own Daisy-like way.

"Are you sure you want to share?" she asks.

She's teasing, but of course she's not. Does she feel guilty because he doesn't have the sole role, like she's taking something from him? Maybe she thinks she doesn't deserve it – after all these years something inside Daisy still screams she doesn't deserve things, Coulson knows only too well. He tries to give her the same kind of tender glance – the one he tries to use when he has to wake her from a nightmare, or when she loses someone under her command.

"The rank or my surname?" He asks her, light. "Because you've been the de-facto co-Director for a long time now, and as for the other thing..." he laces their fingers together. "I think I got the better deal here."

"Phillip Johnson-Coulson," she tries it on. It's been two days. Her tongue pauses on the sounds like they're something alien. Then she smiles. "You realize that sounds horrible, right?"

He chuckles.

"I think it sounds all right."

And maybe it's because he never thought he'd get something like this in his life, that it was too late, but it really does sound kind of beautiful to him. Maybe it's because it's _Daisy's name_ , and of course he wants it.


End file.
